Authors: Stephen Wunderli

The Heartbeat of Halftime (8 page)

BOOK: The Heartbeat of Halftime

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UNCHARTED TERRITORY

T
hat afternoon's practice went by quickly. We didn't learn any new plays for our game against Granite. We just worked on our sweeps and passes. Granite was big, but they were slow. Coach figured we could outrun them to the corners or deep on the pass. So mostly we worked on timing. It was a good practice, and we felt pretty confident about the Granite game. Granite had only one win so far that year; we all figured we could beat them. But we had one problem. It was an away game, across town. How were we going to get down there the night before to mark our territory? We sat down under the elm tree and tried to figure it out.

“I'm not walkin' all the way down there,” Taco Bell said. “We wouldn't even be back by morning.”

“We could sleep there,” Bam offered. “Be like camping out.”

“We wouldn't get enough sleep,” I said. “We want to play well, don't we?”

We all agreed. The last thing we wanted to do was wake up tired. Besides, our parents would find out somehow and that would ruin everything. We had to find a way.

“Have your brother drive us,” Heat said to Bam.

“Thought of that,” Bam said. “They have their own pregame ritual. Every Friday night they all get together and have pizza; then they go down to Mortensen's junkyard and break things and yell and stuff. He's not gonna miss that to watch us all take a leak.”

“Yeah,” Taco Bell said. “Can't you see us asking him. âUh, Darrel, will you take our whole team to the bathroom, please?'”

Everybody laughed.

“I'm just gonna walk it,” Heat said.

“Why don't I just get one of Ray's cars?” Spray Can offered.

“You drive?” Taco Bell said.

“Sure,” Spray Can said. “I do it all the time. I'm almost sixteen.”

“You're only thirteen,” Bam said.

“I got a Idaho driver's license,” Spray Can said. “Ray made me get it before we moved down here
so I could help him get parts. You can drive when you're fourteen in Idaho.”

“This is Utah,” Bam said.

“You're fourteen?” Taco Bell said, realizing that Spray Can must have been held back a grade.

Spray Can looked down then. I guess he was embarrassed. We all knew he wasn't too bright, but none of us knew he'd had to repeat a grade.

“So I done fourth grade twithe,” he said, wiping his face afterward. “Big deal. Are we goin' or not?”

“I'm in,” I said, and stepped next to Spray Can.

“You're always in,” Taco Bell said. “You're crazy.”

I just nodded my head.

“I could use a little road trip,” Bam said, stepping next to me.

It didn't take long for everyone else to join in, everyone, that is, except Taco Bell. He just stood there looking down at his feet and kicking at a weed in the dry grass.

“Wonder what Katie will say when she finds out her boyfriend is a chicken?” I said.

For the second time that season, Taco Bell went crazy over a girl. He must've really been in love. He came at me with everything, swinging, kicking, screaming. He was like the Tasmanian Devil. It took everybody else to hold him down.

“I'll kill you!” he kept yelling. “I'll kill you!”

His face was red and he was breathing like an animal. He hit me only a couple of times, which didn't really hurt. But when Taco Bell settled down, Bam had a bloody nose.

“Why don't you hit like that in a game â¦
bam
, just like that,
bam, bam!
Bring that girl to the game and we'll make fun of her to rile you up.”

Everybody laughed, even Taco Bell. But it took him a little longer.

“I woulda gone, you guys,” he said. “You don't have to say stuff like that.”

“You're the crazy one,” I said. “You shoulda seen your face.”

Taco Bell laughed. “Well, you looked pretty scared.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess I was.”

Taco Bell looked at me then, wanting to tell me that he wasn't mad anymore, that there was no reason to be scared. He didn't understand that it wasn't him I was afraid of. I didn't even know for sure what it was. I couldn't explain how I felt. But Spray Can knew. He'd been alone long enough to know how it felt. And he knew I didn't want to talk about it.

“Ray goes for parts most weekends,” Spray Can cut in. “There's always a few cars around with keys in 'em.”

“So we meet at the garage on Friday night,” I said, nodding at Spray Can.

“That'll work,” Heat said.

That's how it was settled. We would mark our territory on someone else's field. It would be the true test of the force of nature.

ON THE ROAD

W
e couldn't think of anything else the rest of the week. We even had a hard time concentrating at practice.

“Go home and meditate,” Coach said to us. “Think about the spoils of victory. A loose mind will spell defeat, for all of us. Meditate, men. Meditate on the victory at Marathon, the conquest of the Gauls. Meditate.”

And with that, he closed his eyes and waved us home from the last practice before Saturday's game.

It was Friday afternoon. D day, Taco Bell called it. “The day we drive.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon at the canal, sitting on the wooden bridge tossing pebbles into the water. No one said much; we just stared at the tiny splashes until they turned orange from the setting
sun. Then we looked at each other as serious as we could.

“This is it,” Bam said. “See you in a couple hours.”

We all went home to dinner, to sit nervously until it was dark enough to leave.

“I'm going with Taco Bell,” I told my mom.

“To do homework, I hope,” she said.

I didn't answer. And I didn't look back.

I was the first to arrive at Spray Can's that night. Spray Can was right. Ray was gone for the weekend. At least this time he'd left Spray Can with some food. He had eaten two TV dinners by the time I had gotten there. He cleared the empty trays off the couch for me and I sat down with his dog Bob. There was a space movie on and Spray Can was cheering for the bad guy, of course.

“Fry his butt with the laser,” he shouted at the TV. “Toast him!”

Then he looked at me.

“You can get something from the fridge if you want,” he said.

I rummaged around and found half a candy bar. I broke a piece off and gave it to Bob. Then I sat down and looked at Spray Can.

“Do you think I'm crazy?” I asked him.

“Sure,” Spray Can said. “Who isn't?”

He laughed then for a moment before looking back to the TV.

“Toast him!” I shouted.

Just then the bad guy in the black space suit blew up from a direct laser hit.

“Oooh,” we groaned.

“Fried from the inside out,” Spray Can said. “What a way to go.”

We heard a knock on the window. When I turned around, I could see Bam and Heat looking through the dirty glass. Spray Can opened the garage door out front, and even though it was a cold night, he left it open and turned on the heater. It wasn't long before everyone else was there. Except for Taco Bell.

“I knew we should've gone by his house,” Bam said.

“He'll be here,” I said. “We got time.”

Heat's dogs were a little nervous around Bob. It always took Bob a bit to warm up to the four Labs. Bob followed them everywhere they went, and it was funny seeing him try to keep up with all four. He was like a mother hen trying to keep four young roosters out of trouble. Heat's dogs didn't help much; they were into everything, their big tails swinging back and forth and knocking all kinds of stuff over. Spray Can moved the TV into the garage and everybody found something
to sit on; some empty can or box or broken chair. The space show ended and a Western was on. We were cheering for the Indians when Taco Bell finally showed up. His face had blue stuff all over it and his hands were sticky. But his eyes were all excited.

“There's a wedding on at the church behind Smoky Joe's,” he said as if it were better than Christmas.

“So?” Bam said.

“So â¦” Taco Bell said. “There's lots of food and they got it all set up in the back, you know, close enough to that hole in the fence to make out with all kinds of cake and those chocolate things â¦ . It's good.”

“We got a mission tonight,” Heat said seriously.

“We can't do it on an empty stomach,” Taco Bell said. “Let's eat first, then go. Besides, I can't go yet anyway; I just went an hour ago.”

Sparky slugged him.

“You bozo,” he said. “I been holdin' it all night.”

“I'm gonna pee my pants if we don't get goin' now,” Flame said.

“C'mon,” Taco Bell pleaded. “We gotta do more than pee tonight. We got us a car, right?”

We all looked at Spray Can then.

“Do we?” I asked him.

Spray Can was quiet for a long time. He wanted the suspense to build.

“Do we have a car?” Flame asked. “Huh?”

Spray Can smiled. “We do,” he said. “A very sthpecial car. Follow me.”

No one dared say a word. We followed Spray Can as if he were some fairy godfather about to deliver on a dream. He walked straight out through the open garage door, around the corner of the small brick building, and stood beside the most amazing car any of us had ever seen. A 1957 Bel-Aire convertible. It had long fins. It was blue and white. It had no roof. It had a radio. And Spray Can had the keys.

“Gentlemen,” Spray Can said like a royal butler, “your car awaits.”

We all jumped on him, rubbing his head and calling him the greatest player of all time.

“This is one for the Titan Hall of fame,” Taco Bell yelled as we all climbed in.

It wasn't easy getting seventeen guys in that car. We had to squeeze four in the front, seven in the back, and six in the trunk. The little guys were voted in the trunk, including Sparky. But they didn't care. This would be one of the greatest adventures of our lives; they'd take it however they could get it. When we were all in, and Spray Can had the engine running, Heat tried to call his dogs.

“No,” we all shouted. “There isn't enough room.”

“But they've always been there,” Heat said. “It's theirs too.”

“Sorry,” we all said. “We'll have to do it without them this time.”

And with that we drove away, into our dreams. We had crossed that invisible point of no return. We were suddenly teenagers cruisin' in a convertible and so full of reckless adventure, we could've driven beyond the horizon to conquer worlds unknown, maybe even danced with girls. We were that sure of ourselves.

The first stop, of course, was Smoky Joe's. Everybody called him Smoky Joe because he smoked cigars all the time. There was always a cloud of smoke around his head. We parked across the street and got out quietly. Smoky Joe was old, so we knew he'd be asleep already. We crept along the side of his house, always staying low and in the shadows. We crossed under the wire clothesline in his backyard to the hole in his fence. It was a shortcut we often took, especially if we were being chased by Fat Ed. The hole was small and Ed always had a hard time squeezing through. If he ever got close, you were sure to lose him at Smoky Joe's. We lay down in the shadows. Then everybody looked at me.

“You're the crazy one, Wing,” Bam said. “Go get us some food.”

I moved to the hole in the fence and surveyed the grounds. Most of the people had gone home, but there were a few left up by the church. The food
table stood off a bit, and no one was around it. There were bottles of soda in crates under the table and big chunks of cake on top. Trouble was, it was a good thirty-yard sprint from the hole in the fence to the table. And there was no cover, only a stretch of lawn.

“Would you like drinks too?” I said.

“Of course,” Taco Bell said. “Bring those peach sodas.”

With those instructions I jumped through the hole in the fence and shot straight for the table. I sprinted as fast as I could and slid under the table like I was sliding home. In less than three seconds I had a crate of pop and was headed back to the hole in the fence. The bottles rattled as I skidded to a stop.

“Enjoying the wedding?” I asked.

“Oh, very much,” Bam said. “Have they cut the cake yet?”

“I believe they have,” I said. “Would you like a piece?”

“That would be delightful,” Bam crooned.

“Be right back,” I said, running off toward the table.

Just as I slid in this time, a man in a white jacket turned around from the people he was talking to and walked to the food table. I crouched down under the table and waited. Another man in a white uniform walked up to him.

“Alex,” the first man said. “I don't think we'll be serving more cake tonight. Why don't we clear this table and start cleaning up.”

Then the man in the white jacket walked back to the people he was talking to and Alex was left to clear the cake himself. I heard him stacking dishes and I looked over at the hole in the fence for further instructions. Bam was there giving me hand signals.
Wait,
I could see him signal.
Wait. Wait. Wait. Now!

I jumped up and looked first for Alex, second for the biggest slab of cake on the table. I found the one they had been cutting from and it was almost too big to carry. But I didn't have time to cut it. I grabbed the whole thing and took off running.

It would've been a clean getaway too, if I hadn't grabbed a part of the tablecloth with it. Dishes crashed to the ground behind me, Alex turned around, every wedding guest turned around. And there I stood, with this huge cake in my hands. There was only one thing to do: Run! I headed for the fence like it was the end zone. Alex was fast. In no time he was right behind me. When he didn't catch me instantly, he became even more intent on tackling me. I slipped his grasp just before I got to the hole in the fence, and I could tell he was going to give it one more effort. I dove through the hole just as he lunged for me. I heard him hit the ground as I sailed through the hole and landed right on top
of Taco Bell. Somehow the cake survived the handoff. Taco Bell was up quickly. He handed off to Bam, who turned and handed off to Heat. Spray Can was already in the car, and so was nearly everybody else. Just as I got to my feet, I heard Alex squeezing through the fence. I took off again as fast as I could go, but Alex was right behind me, running at full tilt.

“Start the car!” I yelled to Spray Can.

I heard the Bel-Aire fire to life just as I ran under the clothesline.

You know, Smoky Joe is a short man. So when he strung his clothesline, he hung the wires just
below
six feet. Which is too bad for Alex, because my guess is he stands just
above
six feet. I guess that because one of those wires caught him right under the nose. I didn't see much, but Bam said it looked like someone had thrown up a bag of white laundry.

“There were arms and legs everywhere.” Bam said. “Then he landed with an awful groan. He got up pretty slow.”

By the time Alex had figured out what hit him, we were on the road to another victory.

BOOK: The Heartbeat of Halftime

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